


Bunk Beds

by songspinner9



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Holster and Ransom, ransom and holster, still Team, talking after the emotional storm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songspinner9/pseuds/songspinner9
Summary: The night after the confrontation about Justin's plans changing for the near future, he and Adam have a much-needed talk to settle a couple of things before they sleep. (spoilers for the newest update on 4/1/17)





	

**Author's Note:**

> All characters in this chapter belong to Ngozi. I am merely borrowing them and will make not a penny of profit aside from any kudos and comments...which I crave as much as the guys crave Bitty's baked goods. :)

“You awake?”

Justin rolled his head to the side on his pillow and tried not to roll his eyes as well. “Yes, Adam. I’m awake. It's after midnight.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Really? What...” Justin sat up a little and leaned on his elbows. “Okay, sorry about what?”

“I should have realized that you were freaking out about more than midterms and finals.” Adam’s voice from the lower bunk was hushed and a little shaky. "I haven't been listening to you very well."

“Hey…not your fault, bro. Guilt is not in any way necessary here. I've been...oh, hell. Hang on.” With a resigned but fond sigh, Justin swung down from the top bunk to join his roommate. He plunked himself down on the edge of the bed next to him. “Hi.”

Adam responded to his gentle nudge of a shoulder with a “hi” of his own, eyes squinting a bit in the dim light without his glasses. “I just…”

“Just what?”

“I feel selfish, too. I mean…you were so…I didn’t see…shit, man. I didn’t want to be far away from you because you’re my brother and my best friend, but also I can’t imagine you going through years of medical school and your residency on your own. So much pressure and I might not be there to…”

“To hold me together when I’m falling to pieces under a table?” The wry, self-deprecative tone of his voice was followed by Adam’s little snort, and had the intended result of relaxing the other man’s tense shoulder against his. “Bro, I seriously don’t know what’s right for me right now, but I do know that I can’t do this on my own. You’re not selfish for wanting to still be partners.”

‘Oh.” For someone that tall and broad, the D-man suddenly sounded very small. “I didn’t want to assume…”

“Dude, you know what Shitty says about assuming stuff in any relationship.” And they both looked at each other and chorused, “Assuming makes an ass of you and me.” Cracking up, they leaned back to sit against the wall of the bottom bunk. “Hell, my whole family just assumed for all these years. Look, I meant what I said today. Both times we, uh…”

“Made loud and crying fools of ourselves in front of half the team and possibly our new manager?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that. I really meant it, though, bro. I seriously don’t know that I want to be a doctor, and everyone just figured I would, and I really, really need to stop for a bit and sort myself out. I asked, and like, all the big med programs don’t have any issues with people taking a year. If I do decide to go for it, med school will wait. And if I decide against it, there's other stuff...sports PT, other areas of science, and there are some good kinds of consulting that sound pretty interesting.” He paused a moment and snuck a look sideways at his partner. “You’re my safety-net, man. You know that. I…you’re not selfish. I want to still have that, too.” 

Anything else he would have said was pre-empted by getting tackled onto the bed. Once the inevitable wrestling match settled down, and a few tears discreetly brushed away, Justin lay there next to his best friend. As his breaths evened out, he moved his head to rest on Adam’s shoulder. “Seriously. I want to just work for a bit, live with you, and maybe you can help me figure out what I should do. It’s worked so far, right?”

“Mmm-hmm.” The deep rumble of Adam’s voice vibrated both of their bodies.

“And I mean…prepping for those interviews was hell. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Bitty kept an eye on me, so I just ended up in the kitchen. It’s been a little, well, a lot?”

“Guess it has.” The answer to his sort-of-question was quiet. “Leaving here is sort of scary. No more Lardo to keep us focused, no Bitty making sure we’re remembering to eat, no more strategy meetings with the coaches, no more Mario Kart competitions with Dex and Nursey and Chowder and Farmer in the living room…no more bunk-beds.” 

“We can buy them, you know.” Justin paused, twisting his head up to look at Adam. “I'm pretty sure we can find ones to fit your ridiculous height, even. We…we _are_ gonna live together, in Boston, right? Find a place together? I mean, we didn’t really, actually discuss that yet.”

“Uh, yeah. I want to if you want to.”

“I want to. Good. Bunk beds if we can find some. Hey - no more scary green couch!”

“No more planning Haus kegsters.” Adam sounded vaguely horrified. “I mean, we’ve trained the frogs well enough, I think.” His voice wobbled a little on the next words. “No more team.”

“Hey, we’re a team, remember? Ransom and Holster, Holster and Ransom. I mean, adulting seems a bit scary, yeah?” Justin replied, pushing his face against the worn cotton of Adam’s sweatshirt. He wasn’t sure which of them it was meant to reassure. “But I think we can do it together. And it’s not like we won’t keep in touch with the team. Whoever gets voted in as Captain will need some backup and advice, right?”

There was a little laugh in response that made Justin relax, too. “Yeah, and we can drive back here for some of the games when we can. Be the most obnoxious cheering section we can. And you know Jack’ll get us tickets for some Falconers’ games.”

“This is true.”

“But, can you put up with my show tunes and television habits for another year?”

“Yes, Holster, I can. At a reasonable volume. And an apartment will have more space, hopefully, than the attic.”

“Okay, then. Wait, that means there will be more places to lose my glasses, though.”

Justin snickered. “Yeah, well if I’m living with you, you’ll always be able to find them.”

“This is also true.” They both lay there in the dim light, listening to the familiar sounds around them, of the attic and the Haus, and their friends. Justin was almost asleep again when his best friend whispered, “I’m pretty sure Bitty would send us some pie, bro, if we said we needed it. I think he does that for Shitty.”

Groaning in fond exasperation, he smacked Adam’s shoulder. “Yes, I’m sure he would. Go to sleep, man. We said we’d lead an early practice tomorrow for puck-handling drills for those who were asking. And we’re good. Sleep now, plan later.”

“Okay, yeah, we’re good. ‘Night, bro.”


End file.
